


I Love You For Psychological Reasons

by WitheredHope



Category: They Might Be Giants
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-21 03:17:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10676586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitheredHope/pseuds/WitheredHope
Summary: “Day 63 with Prisoner #61259. He’s a tough nut to crack but I think I'm getting close. He's been even more twitchy than usual.”





	I Love You For Psychological Reasons

“Day 63 with Prisoner #61259. He’s a tough nut to crack but I think I'm getting close. He's been even more twitchy than usual.”

Flansburgh stared down at the floor as he recorded the log entry. He was a class Gamma Persuader for the corporation. He hated the company but loved his job. He ran torture simulations, a “humane” way to punish recalcitrant rebels. Most lasted a week before breaking into a puddle of human psyche and being sent off to be reprogrammed, but his current project was entering his third month. Prisoner #61259 was a rebel strategist. What he lacked in charisma and body mass he more than made up for in mental fortitude. Flans had tried almost everything: hallucinations, family loss, rejection, even snakes. The last remaining weapon in his arsenal was a week of medieval torture. If that also failed, he would be sent back down to Delta rank and 61259 would be lobotomized.

\---

“Good morning, 61259.”

“Hey there buddy, what's today’s damage? Waterboarding, giving me yet another child to watch die, being torn apart by hungry sharks?”

“It's the one thing that's going to wipe that stupid smile off your face.”

“And that would be?”

“You'll see.”

The next moment, They appeared in a dark room where 61259 was seated in a wooden chair. He felt a sudden, intense pain in his wrists and ankles. The pain shot up his arms and legs and electrified his spine. He tried to struggle but found he was unable to move his limbs. His wrists and ankles had been nailed to the chair, but it was a completely bloodless carnage. The corporation hadn't felt a need to fork over the extra money for the liquid sensory simulation needed for blood, not when the bizarre lack of gore had such a mind-shattering effect on their ‘clients.’ It was honestly almost cartoonish, the way he was restrained. He then felt a blinding, stinging pain in his chest as the spike was driven through his sternum.

Flans watched as his project reacted, screaming from the pain. He spoke the next step to the virtual sensory program.

“Disembowel him.”

He watched his project flail against his restraints. He was finally breaking. Flans knew by now it would be only a matter of minutes before he surrendered. He surrendered all right.

Flans turned a deep shade of red and ended the simulation.

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? ARE YOU SOME KIND OF MASOCHIST OR SOMETHING?”

61259 looked down. “Probably?” He shrugged. “Look, I just feel comfortable around you and guess I got too comfortable.”

“COMFORTABLE?!? I'VE BEEN TORTURING YOU FOR TWO MONTHS!”

“Yeah, but you're so good at it. I'm sorry. I've just…”

“Just what?”

“Fallen for you I guess. No clue how or why, but I think I love you.”

Flans turned red again. Love? This was not love. Was it? He always was thinking about him and wanted to see him get out with his brain in one piece. He enjoyed what he did to him?

“I love you too.”

Flans realized he was likely going to to be put down over this.

“OK. How about I let you go and you take me with you and we just talk about this later.”

“Agreed.”


End file.
